Left Behind
by King Caspian the Seafarer
Summary: This is the story of what happened in England during the Last Battle. Completed.
1. Chapter 1: A Heated Conversation

**Left Behind**

Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia or its characters. They belong to C.S. Lewis.

A/N: I would appreciate any reviews or comments. ;) They make me very happy. This story begins the night of dinner of the Seven Friends of Narnia in the Last Battle.

**--Chapter 1--**

Susan Pevensie stood in front of her full length mirror, primping her hair and putting on the final touches to her makeup. Finally satisfied, she stepped out into the big living room that was just outside her room.

"Su?"

Peter had been waiting to ask her something all day. She had felt him watching her since that morning, just waiting for the right time. Edmund, Lucy, Eustace, and Jill were scattered around the living room, trying to look disinterested; Susan knew otherwise.

"What is it?" she replied with an impatient glance at her wrist watch. She didn't need to ask. She knew what was on her brother's mind.

"The Professor and Aunt Polly have asked us over for dinner tonight. Would you…"

Peter stopped at the expression on his sister's face and the cold chuckle that sprang forth from her lips.

"Don't tell me you're _still_ trying," she stated icily.

"Trying what?"

"Oh, you know, trying to get me to go to one of your 'Narnia' dinners. I don't have any use for them."

"Now look, Su," Edmund began, getting up from his chair; Peter stopped him.

"Why won't you come with us?" he asked gravely.

"Because!" she exclaimed angrily, waving her hands about. "I'm not interested in that kind of thing anymore! I have my own life! I have a job, a boyfriend—"

"Yes I know, but—"

"Look, Peter, all of you," Susan said, glancing around at the others who were all looking at her pleadingly, "I'm sick and tired of you asking me to join your little fantasy club. Why would I, of all people, want to spend my time with my insane siblings, a couple of crazy old people, and my bratty cousin and his girlfriend?"

"Jill isn't my girlfriend!" Eustace said through clenched teeth.

"I should say not!" Jill added, nodding vehemently. Susan raised her eyebrows, and shook her head at them.

"Oh really?"

Jill and Eustace both blushed and looked away.

"Honestly, Su," Lucy cut in, sending a compassionate glance her cousin's way, "Why can't you leave them alone? Won't you just come with us tonight?"

Susan looked around the room in disgust.

"I really don't know why you must persist in believing in that imaginary country. It's all pretend. You know it is, Peter. Why can't you see?"

"See what?" her brother asked stiffly.

"That those games we used to play when we were children were not real!"

"But they were!" Edmund said earnestly as he rose from his chair.

"Look," Susan said condescendingly, "Do you really think that we actually got into a magical country through a dusty old cabinet?"

"It was a wardrobe," Lucy reminded quietly. Susan glared at her.

"Whatever. Can't you see it was just our imaginations? It was all a game!"

"But Susan! Don't you remember Aslan? The Stone Table?" Lucy persisted.

"That was pretend, too. It was all a game. Especially Aslan." Susan said. They all stared at her in numb silence.

"How _can_ you Susan?" Peter asked, horrified. "I would think that you would at least remember our last conversation with him. Don't you remember what he told us?"

"So what? That was in our imaginations too! It was all a dream! Not reality. Can't you see that?"

"Oh Susan!" Lucy exclaimed softly. She sunk down onto a nearby chair. "How much you are missing!"

"Not nearly as much as all of you are missing. Peter, you are twenty-three! You at least should be more grown up; more mature. Jill, Eustace; you two are sixteen! For heaven's sake, why can't you get real?"

"Narnia is our reality, Su," Peter said. All of the others nodded.

"Fine," Susan said icily, turning to leave.

"Where are you going?" Peter said.

"Jon and one of his friends from the university are throwing a party. Tell Mum I won't be back till late."

"Su, they'll drag you down. You haven't been coming to church on Sunday. You don't know Aslan in our world. What if you die?" Edmund asked quietly.

"I don't care. Until I die, I'm going to live a comfortable life and not worry about imaginary worlds that don't exist."

And with that, Susan Pevinsie marched out of the room. Everyone let out a huge sigh, and Peter collapsed onto a couch.

"What am I doing wrong?" he asked absently.

"Nothing!" Jill said, her cheeks pink with anger. "You were perfect. Susan is just too stubborn to listen to the truth!"

"Somehow," Eustace said slowly, "I feel like we need to do more."

"What more can we do?" Jill asked. "We tried everything. She just won't listen!"

Lucy was almost in tears. "She said that Aslan was a dream! I never thought…"

"It's all right, Lu," Peter said comfortingly. Edmund stared out the window. No one really knew what to say.

"We need to pray," Edmund said, turning away from the window. "Aslan knows what's happening to her."

"Yes!" Lucy exclaimed, sitting up straight.

Then she fell to her knees beside the couch. Everyone bowed their head and closed their eyes.

"Oh Aslan!" Lucy murmured as the others waited in silence, "Help Susan remember the truth! Save your little lost child!"

**_To Be Continued..._**

To Be Continued……………..


	2. Chapter 2: An Unexpected Guest

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia.

A/N: This chapter takes place at the dinner of the Seven Friends where Tirian appears. Please review!!

**--Chapter 2--**

Peter was troubled about Susan. Their conversation that evening had confirmed his fears about his sister, who had now completely turned her back on Narnia.

Even worse, Susan had denied Aslan, and that above all else had cut Peter to the quick. He closed his eyes and remembered all the times they had seen the Great Lion, and especially of that last time they saw him, bright in the morning sun. It was the morning he told the two older Pevensies that they would never return to Narnia.

Susan had been sad enough then, and she had been wonderfully excited when Peter told her he had found Aslan in this world; but in the last few years, she had just…walked away from the truth. She started going to parties and investing her time in all the things that she wanted: her job, friends, and stuff.

Peter, who had been away at the university, just hadn't noticed. He had been too busy to listen to Edmund's worries about his older sister; too busy to see how sad Lucy was because of Susan's withdrawal. But now, when he finally saw the truth about his sister, it was too late. She was gone.

"Peter, what's wrong with you tonight?"

Peter opened his eyes and looked up at Aunt Polly, staring at him in concern.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Polly," he began. "I'm just…"

"Worried about Susan?" she finished for him. When he nodded, she sighed and shook her head.

"Peter, it isn't your fault that Susan turned her back on Narnia."

"How did you know what I was thinking?" Peter asked in surprise.

Aunt Polly smiled.

"It's written all over your face," she remarked gently. "When you start thinking about Susan, your face gets a soft expression on it, like you're remembering her as a young girl who loved Narnia, and then it hardens up like a shell as you think about her as she is now."

Peter shook his head with a smile.

"Aunt Polly, sometimes I think you have a special gift for reading people's minds."

"Digory thinks so too," she said dryly, and then motioned him forward. "Come on, then, High King Peter. It's dinner time."

The others were already gathered around the table when Aunt Polly and Peter arrived in the dining room of Aunt Polly's home in London. Peter took his seat at the right of the Professor, and Polly sat down next to him.

"Who will bless this feast?" Professor Kirke asked, looking around the table.

"Oh I will!" Edmund exclaimed from the foot of the table. The seven friends bowed their heads, and Edmund began.

"Aslan, we thank thee for this food, and for the fellowship we will have tonight. We thank thee for blessing us, and for promising to guide us through the storm. Amen."

"Thank you, Edmund," the Professor said. Lucy grinned at Edmund, and he looked down at his plate.

"Aunt Polly!" Eustace exclaimed. "How on earth did you make all this food?" Polly blushed.

"I didn't do it myself. Jill and Lucy both helped. We really felt like it was time to get all the seven friends together for once to have a good long jaw about Narnia."

"I think it's a splendid idea!" Jill exclaimed enthusiastically. Lucy sighed, glancing out the window.

"I do wish Susan had come," she murmured sadly.

"Oh buck up, Lu," Edmund stated. "We tried, and you know she doesn't really like this kind of thing anyway."

"I know, Ed, but I still can't believe she would just pretend it isn't real! It's like saying that…well, that the sun doesn't shine! I don't know how she can live without thinking about it every day! I couldn't."

"Oh do let's not talk about her," Jill begged. "You promised to tell me the story of when you were taken captive in the Lone Islands. Don't you remember?"

"Oh yes! But I thought I already told it to you," Lucy remarked.

"Well…yes, you did," Jill admitted with a shy grin, "but o please, do tell it again! And Aunt Polly and the Professor haven't heard it yet!"

"Oh, all right!" Lucy gave in, and proceeded to tell the eager listeners the whole story.

Peter smiled in spite of himself. Lucy was a wonderful storyteller. He threw himself wholeheartedly into listening to his sister, and imagined vividly the adventure that took place there.

"And just before we were taken away to goodness knows where in Calormene, Caspian appeared with Drinian and another man who turned out to be one of the lost lords and saved us! It was such a relief. And then, he made Pug pay all the Calormenes back for the slaves they had bought and everyone was free. Then, we sailed on to Dragon Island…"

Lucy glanced over at Eustace who was frantically motioning for her to stop. She grinned at him, and said, "But that's another story for another time."

Eustace sighed in relief, causing Jill to look at him curiously.

"What is it?" she asked, but he shook his head.

"Never mind. I'll tell you later."

"So, Professor," Edmund began from across the table, "Do you think that there was a connection between the White Witch and the Queen of Underland that Eustace and Jill met up with? I've been wondering about it for some time."

"Well, Edmund," Professor Kirke began, "They might have heard of each other. Supposing that the Queen of Underland had really lived so long as to have known what was written on the stone. The one that said, 'under me'."

"Hmm, I hadn't thought about that," Eustace said, pondering this.

"She certainly was evil enough," said Jill, shivering at the remembrance of the green lady.

"I think--" Peter started, but then stopped abruptly.

Eustace, Jill and Lucy all jumped to their feet, and Jill let out a small scream. Aunt Polly drew in her breath, and the Professor grasped the table, knocking his glass off the table.

Peter turned, and saw a man standing almost directly behind him. The man was tall and ghostlike, but was wearing the Narnian colors. Peter clenched his hand into a fist, forcing himself to calm down.

"Speak, if you're not a phantom or a dream," he said, "You have a Narnian look about you, and we are the seven friends of Narnia."

The man's mouth moved, as if he was trying to say something, but Peter heard nothing. The High King rose to his feet, trying to keep his legs steady, gazed into the stranger's face and said, "Shadow or spirit or whatever you are. If you are from Narnia, I charge you in the name of Aslan, speak to me. I am Peter the High King."

The ghostly man's mouth moved again, but no sounds came out. Then, it began fading and then disappeared altogether.

"Look! It's fading"

"It's vanishing!"

"It's melting away!" came cries from all round the table

Peter sat down and gazed around the table at the seven companions.

"Well, that was unexpected," he commented shakily.

"That's all you can think to say? Honestly!" Jill exclaimed, plunking down in her chair.

"Who do you think he was?" Eustace asked.

"And why did he come?" Lucy mused.

"Oh! Do you think Narnia is in trouble? And maybe he was sent to ask for our help?" Jill inquired excitedly.

"If he was, than why didn't he speak?" Eustace asked with a thoughtful frown.

"Oh Eustace, you know how it is sometimes," Jill shot back angrily, "He looked like he wanted to speak, and was trying to speak, but just couldn't."

"Now, now, children," Aunt Polly said, stopping the argument that could have gotten heated, "Let's not fight about it. Aslan would never have wanted a sign from him to turn into a reason to fight."

She looked pointedly at Jill and Eustace, who both looked down in shame. They had been fighting for the past week, but no one knew why. Everyone was silent for a minute, waiting for one of them to apologize, but neither did. Finally, the Professor broke the cold silence.

"Well, if Narnia is in need, than we must send help at once."

"But how?" Jill questioned, getting over her icy silence. "We can't get into Narnia unless Aslan lets us in."

"There is one other way," Aunt Polly said, turning toward Digory. He stared at her for a whole moment before he seemed to remember and looked down at his plate.

"But Polly, you know it's not right," he warned. "Aslan forbade it."

"Not exactly," she muttered.

"What are you two talking about?" Peter asked curiously.

"The rings," Polly breathed.

"What?" Jill asked, her eyes brightening as her curiosity got the better of her.

"Long ago when Digory and I were just children, his Uncle Andrew had some magic rings made from the dust of another world. We used the rings to get into Narnia."

"Not first, Polly," Digory stood up and walked to the window. "We used them to go to Charn first. And you know what happened because of that."

Edmund shivered, remembering the story of how Jadis had entered Narnia.

"But that was an accident," Polly said, "We didn't mean to go to Charn. And the whole adventure turned out all right in the end didn't it?"

"But Edmund was almost killed because of my stupidity," the Professor remarked, turning toward them again.

"Digory, it's the only way," Aunt Polly pleaded. There was a moment of waiting, and then Professor Kirke sighed, breaking the silence.

"I suppose it is the only way," he mused. "Very well. Who is it going to be?"

"Oh please can I go?" Lucy was on her feet in an instant, begging to be allowed to go back to Narnia.

Edmund grabbed her arm and gave her one look, and she blushed.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I forgot that I'm not supposed to go back. I just want it so very much!"

"It's all right, dear," Polly said comfortingly.

"You and I could go, Polly," Digory stated, surprising the others.

"Us? But…no. We can't, Digory. Do you really think that we at our age could really save Narnia?"

"You're right, of course," the Professor sighed. "It'll have to be Jill and Eustace then."

The named shared a secret look of joy, but didn't say anything out loud, mindful of Lucy staring wistfully at them.

"Right. So, where are the rings?" Eustace asked. The Professor's face fell.

"Oh bother! They are buried around the apple tree! In the back of my Uncle's apartment. We don't own it anymore, you know. That's a drawback. How will we get at them?"

"Peter and I could get them," Edmund put in, surprising everyone.

"Thanks for volunteering me, Ed," Peter muttered, drawing a laugh from the crowd of friends.

Edmund turned red, and then shook his head at his brother.

"We have a friend who works as a drain's man. He could get us uniforms and we could go in and get them."

"Oh can I go? I love disguises!" Jill exclaimed excitedly.

"No! You have to go back to school next week," he replied. Jill pouted about this for a few minutes, but finally got over it.

"Oh how exciting this will be!" she exclaimed, summing up everyone's feelings.

**_TBC..._**


	3. Chapter 3: Arguments

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia.

A/N: This is two days later. Please review!!

**--Chapter 3--**

Jill Pole stared out the misty window and let out a long sigh.

It was raining.

Again.

The holidays were almost over, and school was starting next week. Jill curled up her legs under her and watched the rain dripping off the roof. She was at the Pevensie's house, as usual. Her mum and dad were on a trip to Italy to finish up the summer, and Jill had been left behind.

She could have waited out the storm at her house, but it was so lonely. She didn't have any brothers or sisters, and Lucy, sensing the girl's reluctance to return home after lunch, had invited her over.

"Would you like some tea?" Lucy asked from the kitchen.

"Yes please," Jill replied. It was a good day for tea, and Lucy seemed to make the best tea in England.

Absently, Jill traced a line in the condensed water on the window. When she noticed the shape it was taking, a smooth "E", she immediately wiped it out with one swipe of her hand.

After a few minutes, Lucy joined Jill on the window seat, and both the girls staring out at the bleak English countryside.

"It looks like Ettinsmoor," Jill murmured.

"Does it?" Lucy asked.

Jill hadn't said much about her adventure in Narnia, and all Lucy had heard was from Eustace's point of view.

"I never went the way to Ettinsmoor when I was in Narnia," she continued. "Except…"

"What?" Jill asked curiously.

"Once, when Peter was in the war with the giants, Edmund and I went up there for a ride to see if he needed any help. It wasn't rainy when we went, though."

"Oh," Jill replied. Lucy was the curious one now. Jill was obviously preoccupied by something, or she would have already convinced Lucy to tell her the whole story.

"All right, Jill," Lucy began in a different voice, one that made Jill look up at her instantly. "What's up? Why are you so distant today?"

Jill sighed again, and said, "I just have a lot on my mind."

"It's Eustace isn't it?" Lucy asked. Jill looked out the window again.

"Why should it be?"

"Now look, Jill, he's my cousin. What's up? With you and Eustace I mean."

"Stop being so nosy!" cried Jill, and Lucy drew back.

"I'm not trying to be nosy," she started, "but it's kind of hard to understand you when all you two do is fight! What is going on?"

Jill was silent. Lucy sighed and got up.

"I'll go check on the tea," she announced.

She turned to leave, but stopped when she heard a choked sob behind her. Lucy whirled around and ran back to her young friend.

"Oh Jill, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around the weeping girl.

"It isn't your fault, Lucy! It's Eustace's!" Jill cried, dashing away a few angry tears.

"Whatever is the matter?" Lucy asked gently, remembering not to sound nosy.

"He's such a hateful …obstinate… stuck up… pig!" Jill gasped between sobs.

"What did he do?"

"When Aunt Polly told us that we were all going to get together to talk about Narnia, it all came back!"

"What did?"

"All the horrible, terrible things I did! Like causing Eustace to fall off the edge of the cliff, and forgetting the signs. I felt terrible. I mean, I know that Aslan forgave me, but I still can't forget it all! Then, after Aunt Polly told us, Eustace started being unreasonably cruel! He started ignoring me completely! And then, when I asked him why, he wouldn't answer me straight and then he started yelling at me not to be so nosy!"

"Oh Jill, Jill, It's all right," Lucy stated, stroking her hair.

"But it's not! I…I miss him! I miss the old Eustace!" Jill declared, blushing furiously.

Lucy wisely decided not to say anything. They were quiet for a moment, and then, the kettle let out a shrill whistle.

"Oh dear!" Lucy exclaimed, jumping up. "Of all the worst times to go off!"

She turned to Jill. "I'll be right back!" she promised, and rushed off.

Jill leaned back against the wall, gazing out once more into the damp, dripping world outside. She bit her lip, and one last solitary tear streamed down her flushed cheeks.

"Oh Eustace!" she whispered sadly, tracing another "E" lightly in the window. "Why can't you be like you used to be?"

She waited until Lucy reentered the room, this time carrying two teacups.

"Here, Jill," she said, offering the girl one of them. Jill took it gratefully, and at the first sip, she smiled.

"Is this the tea that you bought at the coffee shop that one time?" she asked curiously. "The one you said reminded you of spiced wine?"

"It certainly is," Lucy replied, "And I only keep it for dreadful rainy days like this. Today reminds me of the day when I found the wardrobe. Do you remember that story?"

"How could I forget?" Jill returned, her eyes twinkling. Lucy had told the story dozens of times, and it was Jill's absolute favorite.

"Tell it again, won't you?" she begged, and Lucy gave in, beginning with, "Once there were four children, whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy."

Lucy had practiced it, telling the story to herself so many times, that she could have told it in her sleep. She told of the frightening air raids, of the stern Mrs. Macready, and of that first rainy day in the Professor's house. She described the wardrobe as only an artist can, and Jill closed her eyes, following little Lucy through the soft fur coats and into the snowy wood.

Lucy pulled Jill into the magic of her story, and soon, both of them were meeting Mr. Tumnus, eating the Witch's Turkish Delight, and crying over Aslan's body on the stone table. As Lucy described the stone table cracking, and Aslan raising from the dead, the rain stopped, and a ray of warm sunshine streamed onto the two girls.

Then, they traveled back to the battle, and Jill felt the fear of young Lucy, wondering if the gift of Father Christmas would bring her brother to his feet. Then came the coronation and the joy of those many years that Lucy reigned with her brothers and sister.

Neither of the two girls, so enraptured in their story, noticed Susan enter the room behind them, and sit down in a chair, listening with rapt attention to the tale.

"And then, we saw the lamppost and decided to go into the forest. After a few minutes, we were rubbing our faces not against bristly trees, but against soft fur coats; then we all fell out onto the floor of the spare room, all of us back to our proper ages," Lucy finished, opening her eyes.

Jill did the same, and they were surprised by a sudden movement from a chair in the middle of the room. It was Susan. She stood up, her face white. Lucy wasn't sure what the expression on Susan's face was, but it seemed to be something between sadness and fearful anger.

"Susan!" Jill exclaimed in surprise.

Susan didn't acknowledge her, turning to Lucy and saying, "That was it, wasn't it?"

"What was what?" Lucy asked, puzzled.

"That was the story. The story we made up at the Professor's house. I had forgotten it."

"But it wasn't a story! It was real!" Lucy cried in exasperation.

"No it wasn't, Lucy," Susan declared, her face turning whiter, and looking completely confused. "It couldn't have been real! There are no other worlds!"

"But there are!" Lucy stated calmly, her face determined.

Susan closed her eyes, seemingly trying to get a hold of herself.

"I'm going up to my room," she murmured, glancing at Lucy. "Where are Mum and Dad?"

"They decided to visit Aunt Alberta and Uncle Harold," Lucy replied.

Susan turned and went into the kitchen. She fixed herself a cup of tea, and then slowly climbed the stair, heading for her room.

"Susan!" Lucy called from behind her.

"What?" she snarled at her younger sister.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Susan lied, climbing up the last few steps. Once in her room, she sat down on her bed and took a sip from her cup of tea. It was warm and spicy, and it reminded her of something. What was it?

"Oh bother!" she muttered, kicking off her shoes.

They were very uncomfortable, but they were in style. She had paid a fortune for them. Thirty pounds for a pair of shoes. Mum had been furious. Then, Susan stared down into the cup, wondering what was bothering her so badly.

Strangely enough, it was Narnia: that world her brothers and sister were so crazy about. What was it with them? Why wouldn't they grow up? Was she the only one in the family with any sense?

"Am I the only normal one?" she pondered. "Of course, I am the odd one out in the family. I'm the only one not crazy about some weird belief. The others are all about Narnia, and Mum and Dad just got religious last month when Peter took them to that church. They say they're 'Christians' now. Come to think of it, so do the rest of my family."

Narnia. That other world. That was her problem.

Ever since Lucy wandered into the wardrobe and came out with a good story, everything had gone crazy! Of course, the war had been bad enough. When the children had been sent off to the country, their mother hadn't foreseen the effect this would have on Susan. It had changed her, made her more cautious of everything.

She had been so homesick for her home and mother that she had naturally grabbed onto anything that would seem stable, and the first thing to present itself was Narnia. Young Susan, the older Susan realized, needed a place to be herself. And then, just when Susan had a home in Narnia, she was jerked away. After that, she had to get used to living here again. Then, they had gone back to Narnia and then sent back again.

The long and short of it was, Susan was tired of believing in things, only to have her hopes dashed to pieces. She closed her eyes, remembering that horrible day…that day when Aslan had told her and Peter that Narnia was not for them anymore.

--

_"Peter, Susan, come with me. I must talk with you alone," Aslan told them._

_"What is it, Aslan?" Susan asked once they were in the woods. "Is something wrong?"_

_The great lion turned to the two children, and fixed them with his great shining eyes. Susan saw something strange in his face, and knew that it was not good news that he was about to tell them._

_"My son, my daughter," the great lion began. "The time has come. It is time for you, Sir Peter, and your sister to leave Narnia forever."_

_"What? Forever?" Peter asked, his tone distressed and stunned. Susan was too shocked to reply; her mouth dropped open._

_"Yes. I called you and your brother and sister into this world to teach you many important lessons. But now, you are too old. You must come close to your world, now."_

_"But Aslan! We shan't see you there! I can't live without seeing you!" Susan cried, her eyes filling with tears. Peter gazed into Aslan's eyes, and saw something that Susan hadn't. _

_"Are you there?" he asked. "Are you there in our world too?"_

_"I am!" Aslan roared. "I am in all the worlds. But there I have a different name. You must learn to know me by that name. And by knowing me here for a little while, you may know me better there. Seek me faithfully and I will show myself to you. My children," he paused, "I love you more than you can know. You will come to understand that better in your world, though."_

_"But Aslan!" Susan sobbed, "What will happen when we die? Will we go to your country if we are in our world?"_

_"There is a way into my country from all the worlds. My country lies across a deep, dark river which none can cross." At this, the woods grew dark and Susan shivered, almost hearing the stream. Then, a most extraordinary thing happened. She closed her eyes and saw the dark river, the one that no one could pass. _

_"Oh Aslan!" she cried, clutching Peter's arm. He was shaking too. She knew that he was seeing the same thing as she._

_"Fear not," Aslan stated, "for I am the great bridge builder…"_

_Susan gazed down into the dark water, and saw a beam of wood stretching across the dark stream. It seemed to be growing, expanding, and it slowly crossed the span of the river. When it neared the other edge, it grew two more parts that ended up looking like a crossbeam. When it reached the other edge, Susan looked at it again. It was a bridge in the shape of a cross. _

_"Now it is time," Aslan declared, and Susan opened her eyes. Right in front of her, gazing steadily into her face, were the great brown eyes of the lion; strong and steadfast, but sad and caring. He breathed on her, and touched her forehead with his tongue. _

--

Susan Pevensie opened her eyes again. This time, the lion was not there, and only a dark cup of tea stared her in the face.

"Oh Aslan!" she cried, the tears coming now. She placed the cup carefully on the table, and sobbed into her pillow. After she had cried for fifteen minutes, she sat up and wiped her face clean. She picked up the teacup and took a sip. Then, something clicked.

"Spiced wine…" she murmured. " I remember now! I wonder how on earth Lucy got it!" Then, she put it down.

"Now I'm being silly," she scolded. "It was all just a made up story. I know that Peter and I just imagined the talk with Aslan, but I remember it so vividly. It must be real. But it can't be! It isn't of course."

But something inside Susan wasn't entirely convinced, and throughout the rest of the day, she caught herself thinking about the 'made up story' as if it had really happened.

**_TBC..._**


	4. Chapter 4: The Plan

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia.

A/N: This is the same day as the last chapter, except at Aunt Polly's house.

**--Chapter 5--**

Edmund sat at the table in Aunt Polly's living room, staring at the picture on the table. It was a picture of a lion, gold and realistic. The picture seemed to light up the entire room, and shine through the dark rain clouds gathering outside. Eustace reclined on the couch, reading a book from the professor's library.

"What book are you reading?" Peter asked Eustace from across the room.

Eustace looked up, a strange expression on his face.

"What…me?" he asked absently.

"No, he was talking to the mouse in your pocket!" Edmund teased, receiving a glare from his cousin in return.

"It's a book about strange occurrences," Eustace said. "You know, like the Loch Ness monster, and Atlantis. The professor had it lying around. It's not like there's anything else to do on a rainy day!"

"That's true," Edmund sighed, turning back to the painting. It looked so much like Aslan. He couldn't stand it anymore.

"Aunt Polly!" he called. "Where did you get this painting?"

Polly stuck her head out of the kitchen. Spying the picture Edmund was looking at, she smiled, and said, "Oh that! Lucy sent it over. She wanted me to frame it for her. She asked me to get some wood from Digory's apple tree, because she wanted a frame of that particular wood."

"But who painted it?" Edmund asked. "It's really good!"

Peter got up and looked at it from over his shoulder. Edmund heard his brother whistle softly in admiration.

"Didn't you know?" Polly inquired excitedly, smiling with her secret. "Lucy painted it! She has become a wonderful artist you know."

Peter and Edmund exchanged a glance.

"Lu painted this?"

"Why yes! Here," Polly said, setting a plate down on the table. "It's a good day for cookies."

"Are those chocolate chip?" Eustace asked, getting up from the couch.

"Come and find out!" Edmund replied, his mouth already full. "Mmm! Aunt Polly, these are better than Turkish delight!"

Polly smiled, and turned to go back to the kitchen, but then paused as she processed the last few words.

"But Edmund, after what happened, one would think that you'd hate Turkish Delight!"

Edmund thought this over, and then shrugged.

"They are better Turkish Delight used to taste," he said with a smile. "Before…the enchanted kind."

"I'm glad you think so," Polly thanked him cheerily.

"I think I'll come help you with the next batch, Aunt Polly," Peter said with a grin.

He followed her into the kitchen, while Edmund and Eustace finished off the warm and chewy cookies. Then, both the boys looked down at Lucy's picture.

"Lucy certainly did a good job!" Eustace exclaimed.

"Yeah. It looks really real." Edmund replied. He gazed at it intently for a moment or so, but then looked away.

"So Eustace," he began, "are you excited about going back to Narnia?"

"Of course I am!" Eustace replied. "Who wouldn't be?"

"Well Lucy would certainly give a lot to be in you and Jill's place," Edmund stated. He watched Eustace's face carefully, and noticed that at the mention of Jill, a shadow passed over his face. It was gone as quickly as it had come, but not soon enough for Edmund to let it pass unnoticed.

"Eustace, what's wrong with you and Jill?" he asked.

Eustace put on an innocent expression.

"Wrong? What do you mean?"

"Oh don't play innocent with me," Edmund said, giving Eustace The Look. "I know there's something wrong. We all do. So are you going to tell us or not?"

He fixed his dark eyes on Eustace's blue ones until the younger boy was forced to drop his gaze.

"All right," he muttered. "I guess we have been fighting a bit lately."

"So what went wrong? I mean, you were good friends until about this past week. What's changed?"

Eustace sighed in surrender.

"Well, it all started when Aunt Polly told us about the dinner. It all came back."

"What did?"

"All the things I did in Narnia. The bad things I mean. Not only in the adventure with Jill, but when we were on the Dawn Treader. I couldn't help remembering all the awful things I did. You know, the dragon, and swinging Reepicheep around by the tail. And the other things I did in the second adventure too. I was pretty beastly to Jill that time. I kept hounding her about the cliff, and forgetting the signs, and, well, to be honest, I couldn't bring myself to look her in the face. She's so nice about it all, that I can't bear it!"

"I know what you mean," Edmund declared. "I had the same feelings when Aslan spoke to me after the Narnians saved me from the Witch. I couldn't look him in the eye at first, and it was dreadfully hard to talk to Peter and the others afterward."

"Yes. I suppose we two are the black sheep of the seven friends, aren't we?" Eustace asked with a grin.

"We were, anyway," Edmund replied dryly. "Go on, though."

"Well, as I said, I couldn't look her in the face. I think she must have thought that I was mad at her or something, and she started nagging me questions. The problem of it was that she was so…nosy about it. She kept trying to get me to tell her what was wrong, and finally, I asked her to stop, and she shouted, 'Oh bother you, Eustace! That's the worst of boys! They never have the courage to do anything!' I guess I got a bit mad, and we had a fight. Ever since then, she's been shunning me and shoving sarcastic remarks in my face every time she can! Frankly, I don't know what to do. I like Jill. She's my friend," Eustace finished, turning three shades of red as Edmund gave him a knowing smile.

"Okay. I won't say another word about it," Edmund promised.

"And you won't tell Jill?"

"Not a word. You have my promise as a king of Narnia!" Edmund declared.

The door to the kitchen swung open, and Peter strode in, carrying two cups.

"Hot chocolate!" Eustace exclaimed joyfully. Edmund turned to Polly who had just entered as well, and said, "Oh Aunt Polly, you do spoil us so!"

Before she could reply, the front door opened, and Professor Kirke came in.

"Digory!" Polly cried. "You're all wet! Here, come and sit down by the fire."

"Thank you, Polly," the professor said, taking off his dripping coat. "I've been busy getting together plans for our venture."

"What venture?" Eustace asked.

"Why getting the rings!" Professor Kirke replied. Then, he muttered, "Logic! What do they teach them at these schools? Just put two and two together, my boy, and someday you might come up with four!"

Edmund and Peter exchanged an amused glace, and grinned at Eustace's embarrassed expression.

"Now, Edmund and Peter," the professor began, "you have the suits from your drains man friend?"

"Yes, professor," Peter said. "He came by this morning."

"Good! That's one less step to figure out. All right," he said, spreading out some papers on the table. The three boys, the professor, and Polly all bent over them. Edmund saw that it was a map of England with several places circled.

"Now here," the professor was saying, pointing to the map, "is my uncle's old apartment. You, Peter and Edmund, are going to have to make it through the gate at the side, here, and dig up the rings at the base of the apple tree. If I recall correctly, the tree is only a stump now. It should be pretty easy to find."

"How many rings should we get?" Edmund wanted to know.

"That's a good question. Dig up as many as you can, but make sure you have an even number. I seem to remember burying seven pairs. Does that sound right, Polly?"

"Yes, Digory, it does," she replied.

"Good. All we really need is two green rings and two yellow. Remember, don't touch them. Make sure you are wearing the gloves, and put them in a bag after you find them."

"Right," Peter said.

"To get there, just follow this map, and make sure to pay attention to which house it is. My uncle's house was the sixth one down. Remember that. It would never do to go into someone else's backyard and dig it up!"

"No, indeed it wouldn't!" Polly said with a smile. She was thinking of the time she and Digory had accidentally walked into Uncle Andrew's study. That had been enough to keep the two children from trespassing for quite a long time.

"So, this is where you grew up as a boy?" Peter asked the professor, taking in the crowded streets on the map.

"Oh yes! It was so different from my father's home in the country. I hated it the first month, but it got better once I met the funny little girl next door," Digory said, thinking on those golden days with a smile. Polly cleared her throat, and remarked, "It seemed to me that the little boy next door was the funny one. And he had the oddest name too!"

The two of them smiled, remembering their first meeting with amusement.

"Will someone please explain to me what's so funny?" Eustace asked in annoyance. He had missed out on the story of Digory and Polly's first meeting, and was feeling rather left out.

"I'll tell you another time," Digory promised. "For now, I think you wanted to ask me something, Polly? You mentioned a picture this morning?"

"Oh yes, Digory, I did!" Polly exclaimed. "Do you happen to have any of that apple wood left? You know, the stuff you used to make the wardrobe?"

"Well of course I do! I always keep a few boards around, just in case! Why do you want it?"

"Well," Polly began, "Lucy wanted me to use it to frame her latest painting. It's her best piece, and she begged and pleaded with me to ask you."

"Where is the picture?" Professor Kirke asked. When he spied the painting on the table, he whistled in admiration. "Good heavens! Little Lucy painted that?"

"Yes, she did," Polly said proudly.

"And I always think of Lucy as the little girl who climbed into the wardrobe so many years ago! How old is she now, Peter?"

"Seventeen last month," Peter replied.

"Goodness gracious! How old you are all getting! Of course you can frame it with the apple wood, Polly. I say, that lion looks so familiar…" he trailed off, his eyes getting glassy in remembering something from long ago. "Hm, well, tell her I thought it was a lovely picture," he told Polly. He handed the maps to the boys, and turned to get his coat.

"Professor, where are you going?" Edmund asked.

"I have an appointment with a friend this evening. I put a board on the table, Polly. I had a feeling you were going to ask for some wood, so I went ahead and got it out."

"Oh Digory, I do believe you have a sixth sense!" Polly exclaimed, sinking into a chair. "Thank you so much! Lucy will be very pleased."

"Good afternoon," he replied over his shoulder as he left Polly's apartment.

For the next hour, Peter helped Polly construct a frame for Lucy's picture, and Edmund and Eustace worked on a puzzle that Polly had out. When she finished the frame and attached it to the picture, she said, "All right! Your parents wanted you home by six. Thank you for keeping me company! Edmund, Peter, give this to Lucy for me, won't you?"

"Certainly, Aunt Polly," Peter promised. "Come on Ed, Eustace."

As the three boys left the house, Polly sighed deeply. It had been a fun evening. She turned back to the fire, and took a deep sip of her hot chocolate.

**_TBC..._**


	5. Chapter 5: A Tragic Teaparty

A tragic teaparty

**Disclaimer: What can I say that I haven't said before? I still don't own Narnia. I probably never will.**

**A/N: Okay…so I didn't stick to the thing about three reviews…since I DIDN'T GET A SINGLE ONE LAST STORY! I finally decided to give up and write the next chapter, but not next time. I would really appreciate any reviews, really really appreciate. Thanks! **

"Susan!"

Lucy peeked into her older sister's room. "Its time to get up!"

Susan groaned as she opened her eyes.

"Lucy! I want to sleep in! Why are you always waking me up?"

"Oh come on, Su! I need your help!"

Susan pulled herself out from under the covers.

"What on earth do you mean?" she asked wearily.

"Jill and Eustace and Aunt Polly are coming over for tea! Will you please _please_ show me how to make scones?"

"_Scones_? You woke me up at…" Susan looked over at the clock on the wall, "At nine-o-clock to ask me how to make scones? Lucy!"

"What?" Lucy asked in bewilderment. "It isn't that early."

"But I was at a party last night!" Susan watched her younger sister's face, and the sparkle of disappointment in her light blue eyes, and remarked, "Oh well. I guess I can help you."

"Hooray!" Lucy cried, throwing up her hands. She ran to Susan and gave her a quick hug. "I knew you'd come around."

The younger sister turned and went back downstairs. Susan groaned as she stretched and climbed out of her soft, warm bed. While getting her clothes from the dresser, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the wall. Her hair was messy and tangled. Her face was flushed and her eyes looked droopy. Susan was startled to see herself without makeup, for a change. She looked so…natural. After a moment, she ripped herself away from the mirror and chose a green skirt and a matching top. After she had dressed, she brushed out her hair, taking long deliberate strokes as she thought about the party last night. She had been invited by her boyfriend's cousin, and even though she was very popular, she hadn't really had much fun. She had been thinking about Narnia. Her boyfriend, Jon, noticed her preoccupation.

"What was wrong with you tonight?" he had asked on their way home.

"Nothing," she had lied. "I'm just a little tired. I think I might have a cold."

Susan decided to leave her hair down that morning. She didn't feel like taking the pain to put it up. After all, it was only her cousin and his friend coming over. Not anyone important. To tell the truth, Susan would have looked horrid if she had put her hair up. But with it down, she looked more like Queen Susan the Gentle of Narnia than normal boring Susan Pevinsie of Finchley.

"Isn't it a glorious morning?" Lucy asked her when Susan finally appeared in the kitchen.

"The sun is too bright," was her sister's reply, though she really thought it was quite nice. The rest of the morning, Susan and Lucy spent making scones. They turned out quite well, fluffy and sweet. If you have ever had scones (which not many people have now I've heard) than I'm sure you can imagine how wonderful the house smelled as the scones baked in the oven.

"Now," Susan said when they had finished and the scones were all in, "when are your friends supposed to get here?"

"Any time now," Lucy replied. At that moment, there came a knock from the front door. "That's probably them now!" she said, running to answer it.

As Lucy approached the door, she saw Eustace's face peeking in the window, and she grinned at him. Once she opened the door, the first thing he said was, "What took you so long?"

"And good morning to you, Eustace," she replied sarcastically. "Nice way to greet your cousin!"

The boy blushed, and Jill said, "We're sorry we're so late. We brought a present for you, though."

"What?" Lucy asked after letting the three in.

Aunt Polly smiled. "Don't be so impatient! Here," she said, handing Lucy a box. Lucy glanced at the box curiously as her three visitors stepped into the living room.

"Do you think she'll like it?" Eustace whispered to Jill.

"Of course she will! I picked it out myself for her!" Jill whispered back.

"Oh! Aunt Polly! I forgot to thank you for the frame for my picture! I owe you one!"

Polly blushed.

"I'm glad you like it, dear," she replied.

Susan entered the room.

"Hello, Jill; Miss Plummer!" she exclaimed, purposely ignoring Eustace, who flushed in anger, but had the wisdom to remain silent.

"Oh Susan, won't you call me Aunt Polly?" Polly asked, glancing Eustace's way.

"Oh but I hardly know you! Please, sit down."

"Thank you," Eustace replied, plunking down on a couch and receiving a scornful look from Susan. Jill sat down beside him.

"Tea will be ready in a few minutes," Lucy remarked. "Is there anything new going on?"

"Well, not really," Eustace began, but Susan interrupted him.

"Oh! Lucy I forgot to ask. Where are Peter and Edmund?"

Eustace glared at her, but still held his tongue.

"Didn't you know?" Lucy questioned, "They went to London."

"Why on earth?" Susan asked in astonishment. "Oh well. There's a sale on shoes at the Shoe Shoppe in London. Maybe they can get me that pair I want. I think I shall phone them later about it."

"Oh their not going to shop," Jill remarked, "They are going to be busy, so I wouldn't waste a phone call."

"What are they so busy doing?" Susan wanted to know.

"Didn't you tell her, dear?" Polly asked Lucy. When the girl shook her head, Polly sighed. "Well maybe you should now."

"Susan," Lucy began. "Do you remember that supper we had a few days ago? The one you wouldn't go to?"

"Yes…" Susan said.

"Well, while we were eating, a man appeared out of nowhere!"

"Oh how horrid! Was he a thief? Did he break into your house, Aunt Polly?"

"No, dear, and it wasn't horrid at all!" Polly replied, noting with satisfaction that Susan was finally calling her Aunt Polly.

"What on earth do you mean? If someone showed up in my house unannounced--"

"He was from Narnia!" Eustace interrupted. Everything was silent. Susan was glaring daggers at Eustace, and the rest of them all knew that he wasn't backing down this time. Jill unconsciously put her hand on his arm. Eustace didn't move.

"Narnia?" Susan asked scornfully, still glaring at Eustace. "Narnia? What is wrong with you people? There is no land called Narnia. You are all too old for fairy tales. Grow up!"

"He was!" Jill protested. "He was from Narnia!"

"How do you know?" Susan wanted to know.

Jill faltered. "He…he looked Narnian."

"He looked Narnian," Susan mimicked. "You try to make something Narnian out of nothing. Maybe he was a ghost."

"We think that Narnia is in trouble," Eustace stated.

"Why? Did he tell you?"

"Well…no. He didn't speak."

"So why--"Susan began, but she stopped when a whistle came from the tea kettle.

"I'll get that!" Lucy exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "Will you help me, Su?"

"Of course," her sister replied, getting up. Susan followed Lucy into the kitchen.

After a moment of awkward silence as Lucy fixed the tea tray, Susan said, "I still don't see why--"

"Never mind, Susan," Lucy said wearily. She looked tired, older than she should be. "Get the scones, won't you?"

Susan got the scones from the oven and arranged them on a tray. She and Lucy brought the food and tea in, and they all began to eat in silence. Susan noticed that they all bowed their heads and hesitated a second before beginning.

"Mmm, these scones are good!" Eustace said at last.

"Susan made them," Lucy remarked.

Eustace turned his eyes toward Susan, and said, "I'm sorry, Susan. I shouldn't have been so hateful. Will you forgive me?"

"Yes."

"Here, Lucy. Open the present." Polly handed the youngest Pevinsie the box, and she opened it.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, looking carefully at the contents. It was a packet of the tea which Lucy said reminded her of spiced wine. Also, there was a map drawn on a piece of paper. It was a map of Narnia, carefully constructed, and artfully done.

"Oh, this is splendid!" she exclaimed. "Wherever did you get such a wonderful map?"

"Eustace made it," Jill said, poking the boy, who blushed in pride.

"It isn't that good," he said humbly.

"Oh yes it is! And you included all the islands! How wonderful! Now I understand why you studied the magician's map so carefully!"

"Actually, I've had that drawing for ages," Eustace said, "I sketched most of it on our voyage, and then I finished it back here."

"Thank you! And thank you for the tea, Jill! It's my favorite!"

Once tea was over, Polly, Susan, and Lucy went back into the kitchen to clean up the dishes. Jill started to follow them, but Eustace stopped her.

"Wait, Jill," he said, grabbing her arm.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I…I need to say something."

"What?"

"Well," the boy began, swallowing hard. "Remember when Aunt Polly told us about the dinner?" at a nod from Jill, he continued. "Well, when I started thinking about Narnia, I couldn't help remembering all the bad things I did. And I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I was so beastly to you about the cliff. I didn't mean to be! It just…well…oh I don't know! Say something won't you?"

"Oh Eustace!" Jill cried, breaking into tears. "It isn't your fault at all. It's mine! I was the one who pushed you off the cliff! And I was so horrid! I mixed everything up! Forgetting the signs and nagging you all the time! I'm so sorry!"

"Don't, Jill! Its all right," he comforted. "We were both wrong. It's all right."

She collapsed onto the couch, crying her heart out, and Eustace put his arm around her shoulders.

"Remember the time we got into Narnia, and I found you crying behind the gym?" he asked at last.

"I remember," Jill replied. "You offered me a peppermint."

"Do you want another one now?" Eustace asked. She nodded, and he retrieved two from his pocket, handing one to Jill. They sucked on them for a moment, letting the cool freshness of the mint calm them down, and then Jill remarked, "Do you always carry peppermints around?"

"I suppose I do," Eustace replied with a laugh. "I hadn't really thought about it before! But I'm jolly well glad I do right now!"

Jill wiped the tears away, and smiled at her friend.

"Oh Eustace!" she sighed. "I'm glad I have a friend like you!"

Susan and the other two ladies rejoined them in the living room.

"Are you all right, Jill?" Lucy asked, seeing traces of tears.

"I'm fine," the girl replied, sniffing one last time.

"Well, I must be going home," Polly said, donning her coat.

"Must you? It's been such fun!" Lucy replied.

"I'm afraid I must! Good afternoon, Lucy!" she said, and disappeared through the door.

Jill sighed as she watched Polly go.

"What is it?" Lucy asked.

"Tomorrow we have to go back to school," Eustace explained.

"Oh. What train are you taking?" Lucy asked.

"The seven-thirty to Bristol."

"Oh! I have a ticket for that train!" Susan said suddenly from the other side of the room.

"What!" Lucy exclaimed.

"I was going to go to Bristol, but I changed my mind and they wouldn't refund it. Do you want it, Lu?" Susan asked kindly, knowing how lonely a train ride can be.

"I'd love it, Su! Do you mind?"

"Of course not! It's up in my room."

"Oh thank you!"

"Aunt Polly and the Professor are coming too!" Jill remarked. "They said we should stay together as long as we could, just in case."

"In case for what?" Susan asked suspiciously. Then the door bell rang. It was a telegram for Lucy.

"Who could it be from? Open it Lu!" Susan exclaimed excitedly, her curiosity peaked. Jill and Eustace looked on eagerly as Lucy slowly pulled the telegram out.

"It's from Peter and Edmund!" she cried.

"What's it say? Are they in trouble?" Jill inquired.

"Have rings. Will meet you at station as planned."

"Rings?" Susan asked.

"I'll tell you tonight," Lucy said with a sigh. She gazed out the window, lifting up a silent prayer of thanks to Aslan for keeping her brothers safe.

**A/N: Please review! I love your reviews even if you don't really have anything to say! The chapter before this wasn't very good, but I wasn't quite sure what to do for it. The next chapter will have the retrieving of the rings by a worried and nervous Peter and Edmund, dressed as drains man...**


	6. Chapter 6: The quest for the rings

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia. I never owned Narnia. I never will own Narnia. **

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for commenting! Feel like leaving a comment or a review? I would love to hear from you. By the way, this is my version of what happened. The books don't say that Peter and Edmund went into the Wood, but I thought it might be neat if they did.**

It was a dull autumn day. The rain, which had been falling all morning, had finally stopped, but the dark clouds hovering over the slowly moving train threatened to begin a downpour all over again. Peter and Edmund stared out the window glumly. The peaceful English countryside which had surrounded them before had been replaced by apartments, inns, and pubs. They had arrived in London.

"Is this our stop, Ed?" Peter asked as the train whistled, and then crawled to a stop.

"I think so," his younger brother replied, still gazing out the window. "Yes. Yes it is," he finally said, standing up abruptly.

The two young men, both wearing plain brown uniforms, stepped onto the station platform. Once inside the almost empty station house, Peter turned to his brother.

"Ed."

Edmund turned to look at him.

"What?"

"Do you have the map?"

Edmund grinned.

"Of course I have--" he stopped, reaching back to retrieve it from his back pocket. A blank look came over his face, and then he turned three shades of red.

"I can't believe it!" he declared in embarrassment.

"What? Oh no! You didn't forget it?"

Edmund nodded angrily.

"I had it in my other trousers! I can't believe I forgot!" he glanced at his older brother who was looking at him intently.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Edmund asked.

"You studied the Professor's map carefully at Aunt Polly's, didn't you?" Peter asked. When Edmund nodded slowly, he continued. "Then we don't need a map."

"What!" Edmund exclaimed. "I didn't memorize it, Peter!"

"But you can do it! I know you, Ed! You can do this."

"London's a big city, Peter. I can't do it all from memory!" Edmund protested.

"You can try. Come on Ed. Here's another map of London."

Peter dragged his reluctant brother to the wall, and grinned reassuringly.

"All right," Edmund relented. "This is where we are," he gestured to a small dot on the map, "And this is the Professor's old house," he pointed uncertainly to another spot.

"What's the name of the street that goes by the house?" Peter asked squinting at the large map in the dimly lit room.

"Newcastle lane," his brother replied. He reached into one of the uniform's many pockets and pulled out a tattered scrap of paper and a pencil. He hastily jotted down some street names and directions, and then proclaimed, "All right! I'm ready."

"Right. Let's go," Peter replied.

The two young men exited the train station and began walking down the street. Their disguise was perfect. The richer Englishmen wouldn't notice them, and the other people wouldn't give them a second glace. There were dozens of drains men in London. Edmund had wanted to hire a cab, but Peter pointed out that there might be curious glances if drains men ordered a cap. It's not like they were on the high end when it came to money, so Peter's argument won.

After they had walked for half an hour and taken a dozen wrong turns, the two brothers finally found Newcastle lane. Peter watched his brother out of the corner of his eye, and noticed something strange about his brother's stride.

"Ed, are you limping?"

Edmund winced.

"Yes," he replied. "Rugby wound."

Peter almost grinned. Edmund was always getting either hurt or in trouble whenever he was involved in sports.

"Can you hold up until we get there?" he asked even though he knew already what his brother would say.

"Of course I can! I survived the battle of Beruna didn't I?"

Now it was Peter who winced.

"Barely," he remarked. "What's the number of the Professor's house?"

"Two twenty-two. Do you think it'll work?"

"Only Aslan knows!" Peter stated. "Two twenty-one…there! Two twenty-two!"

"Here goes nothing," Edmund declared under his breath as the two boys stared up at the imposing three story line of houses in front of them. They marched up to the front door of number two twenty-two, and Peter knocked loudly. They had decided that it was better to knock than to sneak in. After a few moments of waiting, the door opened to reveal a little old lady with spectacles and white hair.

"Can I help you?" she asked kindly.

"Yes," Peter replied. "May we go into your backyard? There are a few things we need to see about."

The woman analyzed them critically, her vivid blue eyes moving from their faces to their boots.

"You may," she began, "On one condition."

"What's that, ma'm?" Edmund asked eagerly.

"That you come inside and talk with me first. I haven't had a visitor in ages!"

Peter and Edmund exchanged a glance, and Peter shrugged. They followed the lady inside. Once seated in her living room, the elderly woman began to speak.

"Well, I suppose we should start with introductions. My name is Matilda McGregor, and I know you two are not drains men."

Edmund groaned and Peter leaned back in his chair.

"Are we really that bad at acting?" he asked in dismay.

Mrs. McGregor smiled.

"No, laddie. I'm very receptive. I am sure you fooled everyone else, but who are you?"

"Well," Peter began, "I'm Peter Pevinsie, and this is my brother Edmund."

"And what do you want from my backyard?"

Peter sighed and glanced at Edmund, who nodded.

"We need something that's buried back there. Its buried around the stump of an old apple tree."

Mrs. McGregor sat up straight, her blue eyes sparkling.

"Did Digory send you? Dear little Digory?"

Peter's eyes widened and Edmund let out a gasp.

"How did you know?" the younger Pevinsie asked.

"I was a servant to the Ketterlys. Once they left, I bought the house and moved in. Digory made me promise to watch over that tree, and he was dreadfully sad when it fell down. HE wouldn't burn the wood, though. He ended up building a cabinet or something."

"A wardrobe," Edmund corrected. "We're friends of his."

"The Professor…I mean Digory, sent us to dig up something he buried when he was a boy," Peter explained.

"Well then by all means dig it up!" Mrs. McGregor exclaimed. "And boys, when you see Digory, tell him I said hello."

"We will, Mrs. McGregor," Peter promised as they left the house. Once in the backyard, Edmund headed toward a large stump that stood in one corner of the yard.

"Got your gloves on?" Peter asked.

"Let's dig them up!" Edmund replied. They both started digging around the stump in a circle.

"I found one!" Peter exclaimed after a moment. Edmund saw a flash of yellow in the dust and grabbed it.

"So did I!" he shouted back.

Together, the two boys dug up fourteen rings, seven yellow, and seven green. Before they dropped them into a bag, however, Edmund gazed at them longingly.

"I wish we were the ones going!" he declared mournfully.

"So do I," his brother replied, pulling off his gloves. As he did so however, he accidentally bumped Edmund, who was pouring the rings into the bag. The bag flew from his hands and a yellow ring touched Peter's hand. He immediately vanished.

"Oh no!" Edmund cried, looking around to see if anyone else had seen. "This was just what the Professor warned us about."

He grabbed two green rings and dropped them into his right hand pocket. Then, he removed his gloves. With mixed feelings of excitement and fear, Edmund slid the yellow ring on his finger. The crowded back yard and towering rooftops of London faded away. There was a bluish green light all around him, and then with a splash, Edmund came up in a pool of water. He blinked in astonishment, and exclaimed, "Great Scott! The Wood between the Worlds!"

There were tall trees and pools of bright blue water dotted all about this new place. The ground was covered in a nice green grass, and the light that streamed down though the leaves was green as well. It was a very quiet place. Edmund suddenly yawned. He wanted to lie down and sleep; but as he moved forward out of the pool, he saw Peter. Peter was standing, like him, in the middle of the wood, staring round at the all the strange peacefulness of the forest. Seeing his brother made something in Edmund's mind click to life, and he shouted, "Peter!"

His brother turned, and Edmund almost didn't recognize him. The longing in his eyes changed his whole face. He looked like he was in a trance.

"This is it, Ed," he said softly.

"What is what?"

"This is the pool into Narnia!"

Edmund drew in a quick gasp and started forward to look at the pool.

"What makes you think so?" he asked skeptically.

"The Professor said that this place doesn't change. The red mark in the ground he left by our pool is still there, and there are hoof prints from the cabby's horse leading to this pool," Peter explained.

There was a moment of silence as the two boys gazed down into the very blue water. Edmund caught himself reaching into his right hand pocket. He stopped himself in time, and grabbed Peter's arm.

"We have to go, Peter," he told him. He turned away from the pool, but Peter hesitated.

"Let's go back, Ed. Back to Narnia."

Edmund whirled around, a stern, unyielding look on his face.

"We can't, Peter! Aslan said we would never return."

"You're right of course," Peter sighed. Edmund handed him a green ring, but the high king looked back longingly at the Narnia pool.

"Ed" he began, but Edmund cut him off.

"No, Peter. We have to go back."

The two boys jumped into the home pool, and the crowded London scene faded back in. Once they were completely back in England, Peter started forward with a deep sigh.

"Where are you going?" Edmund asked.

"To telegram Lucy. We'll spend the night here in town and meet them tomorrow at the station."

The older Pevinsie turned, and headed toward the telegraph office. Edmund gathered up the rings and glanced up at one of Mrs. McGregor's windows. He caught a glimpse of the old lady peeking out at them, and he waved to her. It was time to put the rings to good use, and perhaps save Narnia.

**A/N: Hey all my wonderful readers! If you've read this far and you're still with me, than I thank you for reading my work! I just have a few things to say to my commenters…**

**Electrum and Miniver: Thanks for sticking with me this far. I really enjoy reading your comments, and I hope you will keep commenting. I am really honored that you guys are actually reading my story. I've read some of yours and I feel like I'm no match for the big fanfic writers sometimes, but your comments are really an encouragement.**

**Tamm: I was very glad to know your opinion. I know Edmund definitely hates Turkish Delight considering what happened when he ate it…but everyone knows that that was what lured him in. It was the closest I could get to his favorite food. And concerning Lucy, I know what you mean. But I sort of picture her as a child like grown up…which probably doesn't make any sense. I think that growing up twice would make her appreciate her child hood more, and make her want to be a kid longer. And, she's with her sister. She would probably not say "Hooray!" to anyone other than someone in her family. Thanks for your review! It was really good.**

**As for the next chapter…it's the big one. I'll give you a hint. Train wreck. **


	7. Chapter 7: Train Wreck

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia. **

**A/N: Hey if you have time to leave a note, please do. I really like knowing your opinion about my story. Thank you so much for reading!**

Part 1

Lucy Pevinsie stared out the clear glass window of the creeping train and sighed. How many years before had she ridden a train back to school right after the adventure with Prince Caspian in Narnia? It felt like ages since she had last seen those beloved hill sides and blue mountains jutting up in the distance. But it had been eight years. Eight long, lonely years. How she had missed Narnia, Reepicheep, Caspian…and Aslan. That had been the worst part of leaving Narnia. She knew that she would never again see the great lion, shimmering in the morning sun…except in her dreams.

"Lucy!" Jill exclaimed, pulling her older friend out of the fog of memories. "Where did Peter and Edmund say they were going to meet us?"

"London Station at Main Street," Lucy replied absentmindedly.

"Are you all right, dear?" Aunt Polly asked from the seat behind Lucy.

"You seem a bit tired."

"I'm fine," Lucy replied with a long sigh.

Aunt Polly and the Professor had joined Jill, Eustace, and Lucy at the station in Finchley. Susan had been asleep when Lucy had left the house, so the youngest Pevinsie had left her sister a note.

"Oh botheration!" Eustace exclaimed. "My watch stopped! Do you have the time, Jill?"

"It's nine forty-one," the girl replied, glancing out the window.

"And when do we come into Main Street?" Eustace asked.

"Nine forty-five," Lucy replied with another sigh.

"So, Professor," Eustace said to Digory, "how are we to get to Narnia with the rings? I mean, when we put on the yellow ring, will we find ourselves in Narnia?"

"No! Of course you won't!" Digory replied with a laugh. "It's not nearly that easy. You see, when you get into the wood, there are dozens of pools and trees. You have to find the right one."

"Which is the right one?" Jill asked.

The Professor's expression became pensive, and he turned to Polly and stated, "Oh dear! I hadn't thought about this stage. I never dreamed we would actually get this far. Where, exactly is the pool into Narnia?"

"I don't exactly know, Digory. It's been almost fifty years since I was there, you see," Polly replied with a smile.

"Well, I suppose--" the Professor began, but Lucy interrupted him with a gasp of astonishment.

"What is it, Lucy?" Eustace asked. He and Jill were staring at her in curiosity, ready for any distraction against the horrible anticipation that they were experiencing.

"Eustace! Those people in the compartment just forward of us. Do you recognize them?" she asked excitedly.

Eustace craned his head to one side, trying to see what had upset his older cousin.

"Who?" he asked in confusion.

"It is!" Lucy cried, ignoring him. "Mum! Dad!"

She stood up carefully, and tried to get their attention. Then, just as the train came up on the station, Lucy heard a loud screeching noise, and then a crash as the train flipped to one side, throwing her back into her seat.

"Jill! Eustace!" she screamed, but they had disappeared. She felt lightheaded, and for an awful, sickening second, blackness closed in on her. It was darker than anything had ever been before, darker than the dark island. And like the island of nightmares, Lucy felt horribly and frightfully alone. An evil cackle came from below her, and her most dreadful nightmare began to come back: the Witch, standing over Aslan with the knife. She was everywhere, conquering everything Lucy knew and loved. One by one, her friends and family fell as the Witch defeated Peter, then Edmund. Lucy was in despair when then, like the albatross, a golden light shone all around her. Suddenly, she was in a green field with a blue sky overhead.

Part 2

Peter and Edmund sat on the plain, wooden bench at the train station they had arrived at the day before. The bench, Edmund noticed, was scarred with names and initials of people probably much like himself. They were probably bored, waiting for the train, and needed a distraction. He picked up the schedule for all the trains that went through London that day, and leafed through it.

"Peter," he began after a moment or so, "where did Lucy say Mum and Dad were going today?"

"Um...Bristol. It was Bristol," Peter replied distractedly.

Edmund checked a few things on the schedule, and then remarked, "Oh! They must be going on the 110 engine. Oh, by Jove!"

Peter glanced over at his brother and found him studying the schedule.

"What is it, Ed?" he asked.

"I don't know how I could've missed it! They're on the same train as Lucy and the others!"

"I wonder if Susan tagged along as well," Peter mused.

"I say, Peter," Edmund said, "Do you remember when Susan's horn pulled us into Narnia? We were waiting for Lu's and Susan's train just like we are now!"

"Except Susan isn't involved in this adventure," Peter replied glumly.

Edmund glanced over at his brother, and knew he was still brooding over their 'lost' sister. A whistle from their left grabbed their attention. The two boys jumped to their feet to meet the oncoming train.

"Ed," Peter began, "Is it just me, or does it seem like the train is coming on far too fast?"

When he received no answer, he looked at his younger brother and saw his face going pale.

"Great Scott!" Edmund cried. "It's going to crash!"

Peter, who was still looking towards Edmund and not at the train, heard a loud screech from behind him. Knowing that they were too close to escape the wreck, he flung himself on Edmund, knocking the younger boy to the ground and trying to shield him with his own body. There was a loud crash, and Peter felt a pain in his back. It was hard to breathe. _I hope Lucy's all right, wherever she is_, he thought. He tasted a coppery taste in his mouth, and spat it out on the pavement. It was blood. The world around him grew dim, and then vanished in a sea of darkness. Then, Peter was engulfed in a feeling of extreme love. The pain disappeared, and a golden light appeared in front of him.

"Welcome home my son," said a powerful golden voice from above. The next thing he knew, Peter was in a green valley with fruit trees, and a blue sky overhead. He was home at last.

**A/N: This chapter was really really hard to write. I mean, this is the emotional climax of the Last Battle. None of us really knows what happened on that fateful trip, and I sometimes wonder what was going through their heads. Well, I hope you liked this chapter, and in the next chapter, Susan will have to deal with the loss of her family. Will despair drive her back to the truth? Will she acknowledge her wrongs and ask to return to Aslan? **


	8. Chapter 8: Shock

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia.**

**A/N: Sorry it took so long...and sorry I didn't really go anywhere. Please comment or review! Thanks!**

Susan was having a rough morning. She had gotten up at ten-o-clock to find the house completely empty. Then she found the note from Lucy and a note from her parents. Both expected to be back that afternoon. Susan took her time fixing and eating breakfast, and afterwards, the house was so ominously quiet that she turned on the radio and sat down with a cup of Lucy's special tea, the kind that tasted like spiced wine. There was a radio show on, and Susan realized after listening for a few moments that she and her siblings had listened to the same show many years before. _Shouldn't it be off the air after nine years_? Susan asked herself. She was about to turn it off when a special report came in.

"We interrupt this regular broadcast to bring you a live report from the scene of the London train wreck, an accident that is turning out to be one of the most fatal in history," the radio announcer said. "The 110 engine, unbeknownst to the engineers, started out this morning with faulty brakes. This was discovered when the train flipped onto the Main street station at nine forty-four this morning. Approximately two hundred are wounded, and police estimate over one hundred dead."

Susan switched off the radio, a feeling of dread enveloping her.

_Of course its not their train. _She thought. _Lucy cant die!_

Susan sat back and sipped at her tea, refusing to believe the fact that it was, indeed, her sister's train that crashed. A knock came from the front door, and Susan took her time answering it.

"Hello, Officer," she said to the young red-haired policeman outside. If she had looked more closely at him, she would have noticed him ringing his hands and shifting his weight nervously.

"Are you Miss Susan Pevinsie?" he asked with an Irish brogue.

"I am," she replied, her heart sinking. He knew her name. That couldn't be good.

"Well, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but…" he stopped as Susan paled and swayed on her feet.

"What is it?" she asked breathlessly.

"Perhaps you should sit down," he suggested gently.

"Tell me!" she demanded stubbornly.

"It's your family," he said softly. "They're all dead."

Susan jerked back as if he had slapped her.

"No!" she declared. "No! You're lying to me!"

"I'm sorry, miss," the young Officer said.

Susan turned around and flew inside, slamming the door behind her. It made a loud sound, but Susan didn't care.

_It's not true. It can't be true! _she kept thinking.

But it was no use. It _was_ true.

Susan stumbled up the stairs to her room and collapsed on her bed. She couldn't cry. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. She sobbed tearlessly and screamed into her pillow, "They're gone!" but she couldn't cry. After half an hour, she ventured down stairs again. The house was filled with a silence that screamed to Susan of its emptiness.

_I'm the last one_, she thought numbly. Her tea cup was still sitting on the table where she'd been before she knew. Susan ran over to it in a burst of rage and flung the cup across the room. It crashed against the wall, and the tea, Lucy's tea, splashed against the wall, staining it dark red.

_They're dead, and I'm alive_, Susan's heart screamed. _I wish I was dead_.

A few hours later, the phone rang. It was a new addition to the house, put in a week before. Susan drew in a ragged breath as she answered it.

"Pevinsie residence," she said softly.

"Uh yes. May I speak to a Miss Susan Pevinsie?" asked a voice from the other end.

"I'm Susan Pevinsie."

"This is Sergeant McKay at the station in Finchley. I'm calling about the accident. We'll need you to drop by later today to identify the bodies of your family members. Miss Pevinsie? Are you there?"

"Yes. Yes, thank you for calling, Officer. I'll be down later," Susan replied, hanging up. _It's not like I'll be doing anything else today!_

At four-o-clock, Susan stared up at the Police Station. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped in.

"Officer?" she said to the man at the front desk. "I'm Susan Pevinsie."

"Ah, Miss Pevinsie," the man said, standing up. He had a queer look on his face.

"Sergeant McKay called. You wanted me to identify--" her voice cracked, "my families' bodies?"

"Well…ah…about that," the man stammered.

Susan tilted her head, and he sighed.

"It's an odd case. We looked for your families' bodies, you see, and were going to have them here by now, but…"

"Yes?" Susan prompted.

The Officer leaned forward in his seat.

"Their bodies are nowhere to be found. We believe that they burnt in the explosion. There are no bodies to identify."

Susan closed her eyes, her heart sinking. She wouldn't even be able to see their sweet faces again.

"Thank you, Officer," she managed to choke out as she turned to go.

She walked back to her house. The Finchley Police station was only ten blocks away.

_I suppose we will have to hold a memorial service_, she thought.

When she got home, she hesitated before opening the door. How could she face that empty house again? After drawing a deep breath, Susan opened the door.

**A/N: And there it must stop for now! I'm sorry I didnt get very far this chapter, but I have been really busy and this is as far as I got. Thanks for bearing with me, and I would appreciate any comments! In the next chapter...Susan and her siblings. The memories of her siblings, anyway. How did she feel about each of them, and how much will she miss them? Will thier death bring her back to Narnia and Aslan?**


	9. Chapter 9: Memories

**Disclaimer: Only C.S. Lewis really owns Narnia. **

**A/N: Sorry about the delay…I was really incredibly busy. Reviews are greatly appreciated, and I hope the next chapter will be out before too long.**

Susan forced herself through the door, and up the stairs. Instead of entering her room, however, she stopped in the hallway and looked into Peter's, and then, after a moment of indecision, decided to venture in.

His room was dimly lit; the light shining through the window was as doleful as the slowly dripping rain that streaked the panes of glass. The walls were covered in drawings, paintings, and other mementos that Peter deemed worthy to hang on his wall. Things, Susan realized with a start, that all rather reminded one of Narnia.

Above his bed hung a bright silver shield, with a red, rampant lion on it, and a sword that looked very like Rhindon. Susan stared at it for a full minute before remembering from whence it had come. Peter had been given it by an old friend of that professor's-it had been locked away in an attic or something of that sort, and there was a great to-do over it when it had been given to Peter. It was so detailed. So shining and noble. So _Narnian_.

Susan sat down on her brother's bed. The quilt was red and the sheets were yellow, just like his bed in Narnia (except a bit smaller and dingier and less soft). Susan knew her siblings thought she had forgotten, thought she had completely extinguished the old memories of that Other Place. But she remembered. She remembered all those wonderful nights with the fauns and those days and days of being a queen-not just any queen, but One of the Four. It had been glorious-a Golden Age of joy and contentment and responsibility and excitement...and then they'd come back, and it had been only as a dream. The memories hurt worse after the second adventure, because now she knew she would never (could never) go back.

She never thought it could get worse. But then it was Lucy's turn to be told she could never go back, and now, not even Jill and Eustace could. They were dead. _Dead_.

Susan buried her face in Peter's solid pillow and smelled peppermints. He always smelt of peppermints. How many times had she come in to talk to him about something that needed doing and gotten sidetracked, distracted by him holding up a poem and asking her to read it through, or finding herself sitting down and hearing a yarn from school? Peter had always been the best at comforting the others…oh, that word _had_. Suddenly there was a rock inside her throat, and things pricking at her eyes (they might have been tears).

Quickly she stood and stepped out of her older brother's room, heading toward her own, but then glancing over at Edmund's down the hall. No. If she was going to do this, she should get all the memories over with now, once and for all.

Slowly, reverently, Susan entered her younger brother's room, and noted how different it was from Peter's. The walls of Edmund's room were not walls. They were shelves, holding all of Edmund's precious books. Edmund figured that by learning all he could, he would be able to be able to speak to everyone about the thing that they loved most. He had books on aeroplanes and horses, pirates and philosophy. The Professor had given him the book on philosophy (it was about five inches thick and dusty), gruffly remarking, "It's all in Plato! What do they teach them in schools these days?"

Five books on one shelf caught Susan's eye. They were bound in red with gold lettering, and Susan pulled the first one off the shelf. The title was, _The Magician's Nephew_. Curious, she opened it and read the title page.

_The Magician's Nephew_

_Being the tale of two children, an evil Witch, and the beginning of a World._

Susan tilted her head to one side, and then put it back. The next book was called _Prince Caspian_, and Susan didn't have to pick it up to know what it was. The others were _The Voyage of the Dawn Treader_, and _The Silver Chair._ Susan bit her lip and turned away. Then, she realized that there was one missing. She checked again, but the first book about the Pevensie's adventure in Narnia was gone. Then, Susan saw another book on the dresser beside Edmund's bed. It was red like the others, but was well worn, as if someone had read it over and over again. Susan bit back tears as she opened the book to the place where it naturally opened when held on its spine. The pages in this chapter were dirty, and were wrinkled, as if someone had sprinkled it with water.

_Not water_, Susan realized after seeing what the chapter was about. _Tears_.

It was the chapter about the stone table. About Aslan's sacrifice.

"Oh Edmund!" She sank to the bed, hugging the book tightly as the lump in her throat threatened to choke her. She was blinded by tears.

After taking a moment to regain her composure, Susan left Edmund's room, still holding the book, which was called _The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe_. She set her teeth and entered the room that broke her heart for being empty. Losing Edmund was hard, but losing Lucy…

Susan peeked in the door, almost expecting to see her younger sister sprawled on the bed as she usually was. The windows were open (how long had they been open?), and the setting sun cast a beam of light across Lucy's bed. The light illuminated everything, and Susan blinked at it. Lucy had always loved the light and fresh air. Of course, the air in England wasn't nearly as fresh as it was in Narnia, but Lucy made the best of it. Fortunately, the Pevensies spent most of their summers at the seaside in Cornwall, and Lucy loved to walk along the rocky shore, dreaming of distant lands to which she could never sail in any ship.

Susan crossed to the window and shut it with a jerking motion. It slammed closed with a sharp report, like the sound of a pistol being fired. She looked from left to right across her sister's room. Her eyes stopped when they found a small desk against the wall. Susan stepped over to it and looked down at the pile of papers that rested there. Most of them were drawings of Narnia, of Aslan, the Dawn Treader, and more of the beloved sights and people of Narnia. Susan began picking them up one by one. When they were all in a neat pile, the desk held only a small notebook. It was about half the size of a sheet of paper, and the cover was a deep blue; nearly the same blue, Susan realized, as Lucy's eyes. It had been a present from Peter on her tenth birthday. Susan opened it and leafed through it. The first page was a journal entry that dated back to eight years before. Lucy had been ten then. Susan composed herself and flipped through the journal. The last entry had been written the day before, and Susan's eyes swam with tears. She couldn't read it. Not then. She put the journal back on the desk and flopped onto Lucy's bed.

_She's gone_! Susan thought helplessly. _My little sister is gone!_

Then the tears finally came. She buried her head in her arms and sobbed. After a few minutes, the weary Susan fell into a troubled sleep.

* * *

_She peered over the huge cliff at the terrifying battle below. Peter and the Witch were at it hammer and tongs, and the Witch looked like she was winning. Susan whirled around to the right, expecting to see the great Lion Aslan. But he wasn't there. _

"_Susan!" Lucy screamed, pulling her sister along. "We have to help Peter!"_

_The two girls scrambled down the mountain toward their brother, but they were too late. The Witch had him pinned to the ground._

"_Peter!" Lucy cried. _

"_Don't worry, Lucy! Aslan will take care of him!" Susan replied, holding her younger sister back. This had been the moment when Aslan had leapt upon the Witch. But this time, there was no Aslan. The Witch stabbed down with her sword, and Peter stopped moving._

"_No!" Susan and Lucy screamed at the same time. Lucy ran forward, drawing her dagger at the same time. _

"_Leave him alone!" she demanded. _

_The Witch looked at her with a bemused expression._

"_Battles are ugly affairs," she mimicked as she brought her wand around to touch Lucy's shoulder. Immediately, Lucy became still as stone._

"_What?" Susan asked in shock. "I thought Edmund broke your wand?"_

"_In reality, perhaps," the Witch remarked coldly. "But this is your nightmare. And here, my lovely Susan, anything can happen."_

_Susan glanced to the right and saw Edmund lying crumpled in a heap of armor and blood. She whipped her head around to stare at the Witch._

"_You will pay for this!" she snarled through her tears._

"_Perhaps here, now, in your dream," replied the Witch. Her eyes glinted gray. "But will my death pay for your family's? Can you ever make death pay for what it has done to you?"_

_Susan drew an arrow and shot it at the Witch in one smooth motion. It passed right through her. _

"_You can do nothing," Jadis screeched, raising her arms."Nothing can harm me here!"  
_

_Aslan lay on the stone table behind her, and Susan realized that she truly was alone. She fell to her knees and the Witch stood over her, a vision of hate and evil._

"_And now, Susan Pevensie, you will die! Die!" the Witch screamed, holding up her stone knife._

* * *

"Nooooo!" Susan screamed, sitting up straight in Lucy's bed. She blinked her eyes and stared around wildly. The room was dark, the sun had set, and the room was filled with shadows.

"Aslan!" she cried, burying her head in her arms, "I need you! I'm tired of being alone. Aslan, Aslan! Save me!"

For an awful moment, nothing happened. Then, a voice, calm and clear as the morning sun, said, "I have come."

A soft golden light fell on her from above. When Susan looked up, trembling, cheeks wet with tears of terror, she saw the picture of the Lion which had been hanging on Lucy's wall.

"Aslan!" her voice broke with emotion.

"My child," said the Lion, growing larger and more real with every second, "I knew you would return to me."

"Oh Aslan," she sobbed, "I'm so sorry!"

"Child, child. Think on that no more," said Aslan, finally at his normal size, "I have come to bring you peace."

He breathed on the weeping girl, and she closed her eyes and felt the warmth caress her tired eyes and cold cheeks. Then he was gone.

Susan ran to the window and flung it open. Outside, the stars gleamed brightly in the sky. Beside them was the moon. It was full, that night, and the memories came flooding back fiercely and furiously. Lucy and Tumnus studying astronomy together, her midnight walks along the moonlit beach at Cair Paravel, Aslan and the moon. It was then that she breathed her final conviction to only the stars and the moon.

"I believe."

**A/N: And that ends that chapter. I hope that it wasn't too much like one of the 'dreaded fanfics'. Next comes the funeral, and then…who knows? I must warn you, though, we are nearing the end.**


	10. Chapter 10: Only the Beginning

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia.**

**A/N: This chapter is a re-posting of the original last chapter. After I re-read this fic the other day, unable to contain my hysterical laughter at how rotton the funeral scene had turned out in the original, I rewrote it. Hope you find this a better version. God bless!**

* * *

_Chapter 10_

Susan Pevensie sighed, glancing out the window for the third time.

"Aunt Alberta! Aren't you ready to go?"

Her aunt and uncle had showed up the day after the train accident, and stayed with her until it was time for the memorial service. They insisted that she needed someone else in the house with her since she wasn't used to being alone. Eustace's parents stayed in Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie's bedroom, which almost broke Susan's heart. Alberta was Helen Pevensie's younger sister, but they had never really gotten along.

"I'm coming, Susan!" Alberta called.

She usually insisted that her niece call her 'just plain Alberta', but under the circumstances, she didn't mind. After all, it was these awful circumstances that brought her and her husband to the small country town of Finchley. The memorial service was not even a week after the wreck, and her heart was still bleeding.

"All right, Susan," Alberta said as she finally descended the stairs. "Let's go, shall we?"

The three mourners had a cab waiting and went into London, making their way to an open field at the edge of the city overlooking the river Thames. Not many people showed up, and dark clouds overhead threatened to rain.

There was the Reverend Burke, an old friend of the family; the relatives on David Pevensie's side of the family; two of Helen Pevensie's friends from childhood; and an old woman with a young man. The woman Susan had never seen before. The young man accompanying her looked strangely familiar, but she couldn't tell where she had seen him. He had auburn hair and bright blue eyes. Susan nodded politely at him, and he nodded back. Then the Reverend began his sermon.

"We have gathered here today," he began in a mournful drone, "To remember the following: David Pevensie, Helen Pevensie, Peter Pevensie, Edmund Pevensie, Lucy Pevensie, and Eustace Scrubb."

"Clarence!" Harold shouted.

"What?" the Reverend replied, squinting at him through thick glasses.

"Eustace _Clarence_ Scrubb."

Susan rolled her eyes, recalling how much her cousin had hated being called by his full name, but Reverend Burke nodded.

"Of course. We are also here to remember a friend of the late Pevensies and Eustace Clarence: Jill Pole," he nodded to Mr. and Mrs. Pole.

Mrs. Pole sniffed loudly once; Susan craned her neck to see the woman, and finally caught sight of a bowed head and shoulders shaking in silent sobs.

The Reverend cracked open a black Bible which he had stowed under his arm, and began to read.

"Here ye the word of the Lord," he proclaimed in a monotone, "'For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him, might not perish, but have everlasting life.'"

Reverend Burke closed the Bible.

"My friends," he said. "You have come here to honor the memory of some of the finest people on the earth. And why, might you ask, is their memory so dear to us?"

His eyes seemed to pop out from his head as he scanned the audience as if looking for an answer.

"Because, my friends, they were good people. They were kind and loving toward you; they were gentle and forgiving. And that is because of the faith that all of them had in common: their love and devotion for our Lord."

Reverend Burke stared everyone in the face as he spoke.

"But how, you might ask, do I know this is true? Can any man truly know what his neighbor believes? But still, my friends, if you look into their lives, you will see the truths of the Lord."

He glanced toward the back of the crowd

"If Mrs. Pole would like to come up and speak?" he asked gently.

Gladys Pole stepped up onto the platform, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief and looking as if she hadn't slept in a week. Susan felt the tiniest hint of compassion tugging at her heart. She, too, had not slept well since the accident.

"Hello, all of you. I'm Gladys Pole, and Jill was my daughter. Jill was born on January 14, 1933. She was sixteen this last year. She was always a sweet child, and I wasn't terribly sure about sending her off to school, but she made friends and did well. It wasn't until she came home for the holidays one term, though, that I really noticed something different about her. She was more respectful, more forgiving, and more…likable. When I asked her what was different, she told me about Eustace," here she nodded to Alberta, who was fidgeting with her gloves.

"Eustace and Jill were virtually inseparable for the next seven years, and I was rather pleased that she'd finally found someone that she was close to. As you all know, they were both on the same train heading back to school. When I handed her that train ticket, I had no idea…" Gladys stopped, holding up her handkerchief, pausing for a moment to regain her composure, "…I had no idea that it would lead to this. Nevertheless, I am proud to know that she died a Christian, and surrounded…" she let out another sob and managed to finish, "surrounded by her dearest friends!"

As she left the stage, the Reverend watched her with a sympathetic gaze.

"Mrs. Scrubb?" he asked, nodding to Alberta. Susan's aunt stood and squared her shoulders. Susan could see from the look in her eye that she was not about to break down—at least, not if she could help it. When Alberta arrived on the stage, she could see Harold and Susan nodding in encouragement, and she clenched her fists.

"I am Alberta Scrubb," she said boldly, "and my son was Eustace Clarence Scrubb. Eustace was such a sweet lad, a boy just like Harold. He was so far ahead of us, and so ahead of his time. When he was nine, his cousins, Lucy and Edmund Pevensie, came to stay at our house for a visit. During the Pevensie's visit, something about Eustace changed. He became quieter, and opened doors for me and stood up when older people came in the room. I guess you could call it respectful. And he started calling me 'mum' instead of Alberta. That was unsettling!" she exclaimed, drawing a few chuckles from the audience.

"After a while, though, I got used to it. He was less irritable than he had been, and he had friends for the first time in seven years! Jill Pole was one of them, and I agree with Gladys in saying that they were inseparable! I never even thought that he was a Christian until he invited Harold and me to a church service with the Pevensies. Then I began to see how much Eustace liked his cousins. They seemed to put a sparkle in his eyes. I shall miss him dreadfully, and I can only say," she paused for a moment, telling herself to be strong, "that I wish I had told him I loved him—one last time!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Scrubb," Reverend Burke said.

Once Alberta was seated, Susan got up on the platform. She pressed her lips together, swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat, and began.

"Hello, everyone, and thank you for coming. I'm Susan Pevensie. I suppose you know that all my family died—" her voice broke at the word. She cleared her throat and continued, "Died in the horrific train accident that happened not a week ago."

Her eyes filmed over, and she paused for a long moment, so long that Alberta cleared her throat expectantly.

"My parents were David and Helen Pevensie. Both were firm believers in Christ, and I suppose it's safe to say that they went to Heaven. I loved them both dearly,"—she allowed herself the tiniest of smiles for saying it without starting to cry again, as she had when rehearsing this speech all morning—"and can only hope to see them again someday.

"My brother, Peter Pevensie, was the protector. I loved him dearly—and I know he loved me even more. He was always the strongest of us—physically, at least," she added, remembering times when Peter's temptation had to be discounted by her other brother, whose strength was in his words. "He also was a Christian, a follower of the One True King."

One of them done. She hadn't started crying yet. Susan half wished she could. It felt like the tears were stuck in her throat. It hurt to keep them inside, but she couldn't let go. Not yet.

"Edmund was always the wisest of us all. He was the one whose wise words never failed to guide us through the darkest of times—especially when Father was away in battle and we were afraid for him."

Memories of those dark, terrible nights returned in a flash, but she shoved them away. Now was not the time to remember.

"However, of all of us, Edmund was the quietest. Sometimes people overlooked him, because he preferred to stay in Peter's shadow. I have no doubt that he was a Christian, for he always felt so deeply about being forgiven. He was just…" she felt the lump returning as she spoke one of the Forbidden Words, the Words she had sworn never to recall, and changed what she had been going to say, "just one of the best brothers a girl could want."

Susan was amazed that she had gotten this far without bursting into tears. Perhaps, she thought hopefully, I can make it to the end. But she knew, somehow, that she wouldn't. For Lucy was next.

"The name 'Lucy' means light, and that's exactly what Lucy was to us. She was the ray of sunshine on a dark winter morning; a candle in a room full of shadows. She was the one who kept the hope alive, even when we were neck deep in despair."

Tears filled Susan's eyes as a vision of her youngest sister passed before her eyes, golden curls dancing and blue eyes merry. She no longer blinked the tears away.

"I think, that really, Lucy was the most important of all of us," Susan said, almost pondering aloud now. "Her faith was what led us through the valley of the shadow. And now, her faith has…has…"

Susan bowed her head as the lump choked her and tears streamed down her face. The people below waited in compassionate silence. At last, sniffing and taking a deep, shuddering breath, Susan finished, "Her faith has taken her home."

She bowed her head once more and let the west wind blow in her face. It felt cool on her tear dampened cheeks, and she thought she could almost make out words as the wind passed her ears. But the words were just gibberish, simply noises made by such winds.

At last, Susan turned to the reverend. He nodded at her, and then at the seats, and she stepped off the stage, returning to her seat beside Alberta.

The reverend opened his Bible again and began to speak once more.

"The Bible says that when we believe in Christ, we can never truly die. Behold, Christ has triumphed over the grave. Where, o death is your victory? Where, o grave is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! We may live anew in Christ!"

"Amen!" everyone cried, and the reverend bowed.

"You can pay your last respects by the pictures of those we are remembering. Remember that they now live with the Father above, and all who believe in Him will see them again one day!"

Everyone got up, and Susan made her way through solemn or sobbing relatives, greeting and speaking with each one. Finally, she found herself face to face with the old woman and young man.

"G'day, Miss Pevensie," the young man said. Once more, Susan felt a memory spring up, but then it fell away.

"Have I seen you somewhere before?" she asked curiously.

He blushed.

"I was the one who brought you the news."

Of course! Susan thought. It was the young officer at her door! The old lady stepped forward.

"My name is Matilda McGregor, dear, and you don't know me. I met your brothers one day. And this is my son, Neil."

"A pleasure to meet you, ma'm," Susan said with a sad smile, shaking the lady's hand. "Where exactly did you meet my brothers?"

"I'll tell you later, dear," the woman replied, giving her a smile that was both comforting and sympathetic.

"Susan!" Alberta called.

Susan looked regretfully at the young man and said, "I'm sorry. That's my aunt."

"Go on ahead!" said Neil, his slight Irish brogue charming Susan. "We'll be here for a while."

Susan went to her aunt, who handed her a handful of rose petals.

"Throw them out over the Thames, dear. It's an old tradition, though it's better done by the sea."

"Of course," Susan replied, taking the petals with care.

As she approached the cliff that hung over the crashing waves, the smell of the river—holding just the faintest hint of salt—brought back memories of the days of old when she and Edmund and Lucy and sometimes even Peter would set off in the Splendor Hyaline, or another of their beautiful ships. She had always loved the sea and rivers of Narnia. Now all they did was bring back painful memories. Slowly, deliberately, she spread out her hand over the Thames and let go of the petals.

"Goodbye, Mum and Dad!" she exclaimed. "Goodbye, Peter. Edmund…Lucy!"

The petals, a deep, brilliant red color, fell from her hands and twisted in the wind.

Then, for a moment, she was no longer Susan Pevensie. For that moment, one long, beautiful, heartrending moment, she was Queen Susan once more. She stood there as the rose petals drifted toward the foaming waves, tall and slender, solemn and fair. Her hair caught the wind, and it blew back behind her shoulders. She closed her eyes, feeling a sense of both pain and joy as tears formed in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.

I can't!

Her eyes opened. Everything was blurry as she saw the world through her tears. The petals below fell onto the foaming waves and were carried far away almost at once.

Susan turned and saw Alberta, Harold, Matilda, and Neil—all watching her.

She couldn't bear it! Couldn't bear their compassionate gaze; couldn't bear the thought of living without her brothers and sister; couldn't bear to say goodbye.

Susan turned and ran. She ran as fast as she could away from them, away from pain, and away from memories. The memories hurt. They were like terrible, piercing wounds in her heart, but Lucy wasn't there to heal her with her cordial. Edmund wasn't there to give her a pat on the shoulder and a smile to ease the pain. Peter wasn't there to wrap her up in a tight embrace and hold her as if he would never let go.

And they never would be again.

When she stopped running from the memories and was master of herself again, she found that she was walking along the part of the train track where the wreck had occurred. The station had burned to the ground, and everything was deserted. She stopped near where the station had been and fell to her knees, sobbing in silent sorrow. She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Neil.

"Leave me alone!" she cried, turning away. "I want to be alone. I am alone. They're gone—they're all gone!"

He bent down and just held her. She sobbed into his shoulder. Her gloves were almost soaking wet by now from wiping away all her tears.

"Shhh," Neil whispered, stroking her back—just like Peter used to. "It's all right, Miss Susan."

She was tired of resisting. Tired of holding the tears back. So she let them flow. She wept. She cried as she hadn't since Aslan had sent them away from Narnia for the last time. And now she realized that this was the first time since then that she had really wanted to cry like this. Neil comforted her in silence.

At last, the tears began to wane. Susan sniffed a few times and mopped her face with a handkerchief, which was by now soaking wet. With a disgusted look at it, she began trying to wring it out. Instantly, Neil was handing her his. Susan gave him a quick smile, and then finished wiping her tears away.

"Thank you, Neil," she said with a sigh, staring up into his vivid blue eyes. They were astonishingly similar to Lucy's.

"Don't mention it," he replied, blushing slightly.

"Neil, do you…I mean, are you a Christian?" Susan asked, immediately chiding herself for stumbling over the question so.

"Indeed I am. My mother taught me well," Nell replied with a smile.

"Would you...would you like to come over for dinner some time?" she asked shyly, looking down and tucking a piece of hair behind one ear.

"Of course I would," he replied enthusiastically. "Any time you say, Miss Susan. And now, how are you feeling? Would you like some tea?"

"A cup of tea would be very much appreciated," Susan replied with a small smile. Neil helped her up and held her arm, steering Susan toward an old fashioned restaurant.

"Wait a second!"

Susan stopped, glanced behind them at the ground beside the tracks, and pulling away from Neil.

"What?" the young man asked, watching her with curiosity in his bright blue eyes.

"I thought I saw something!" Susan said, kneeling again—though being careful of her dress—and searching the dust. Sure enough, her eye was caught by a bright glimmer to her right. Susan dusted the glittering objects off carefully, and picked them up with her wet gloves.

"What are they?" Neil asked, stepping forward and squinting at her hands.

"Four rings!" she replied in awe. "Two yellow, and two green!"

"Let me see!" he said, holding out a hand that came a bit too close for Susan's liking.

"No! You mustn't touch them!" she cried, snatching them back, and then smiling apologetically at the hurt look on his face. "They're...they're special rings."

Neil looked at her strangely.

"What do you mean?"

Susan looked up at the sun streaming through the clouds and smiled. They were all watching over her, and someday she would join them.

_I have a feeling that this is only the beginning of the adventure, _she thought_. Only the beginning…_

"Come on," she said, grabbing Neil's arm and walking toward the diner. "I need to tell you about a place called Narnia."

**_Finis_**


End file.
